


The Sole Survivor's Saving Grace

by Evans_Nuka_Love



Category: Fallout 4
Genre: Forgiveness, Gen, Guilt, Hurt/Comfort, Mild Blood, Minor Character Deaths, Swearing, some physical violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-11
Updated: 2020-10-11
Packaged: 2021-03-07 22:08:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 15,072
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26954854
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Evans_Nuka_Love/pseuds/Evans_Nuka_Love
Summary: With his family gone and feeling like he has nothing else to live for, Nate settles with being the new Overboss of Nuka-World, leaving his friends and his life in the Commonwealth behind. Over the course of several months, he has successfully turned the park into a "prosperous" palace of caps that the raider gangs had been hoping for, far surpassing where Overboss Colter had promised but failed to deliver, and also gaining real respect from the gang leaders.Just as Overboss Nate had come to accept this as his new life, his world comes crashing down when he meets a familiar friend under less than desirable circumstances.
Relationships: Male Sole Survivor & Evan (Fallout 4)
Kudos: 4





	The Sole Survivor's Saving Grace

**Author's Note:**

> I recently started replaying Fallout 4 on the side while also playing 76. There's so much about the game that I had forgotten about, including but not limited to the encounter with Evan in Nuka-World. I found his kind and friendly demeanor so appealing that I made him my companion and together we're traveling the Commonwealth and saving the innocents. I can only assume that Evan is any reflection of the actual person he was based off of, (rest in peace, good sir). This idea came to mind while I was at work. Also, Evan's affable nature has even inspired me to be a better person myself.
> 
> I hope you enjoy.

Night had fallen across Nuka-World and most of the "residents" had settled down for the night, save for a few of them who seemingly never ever slept. Such as the eccentric Sierra Petrovita looking around the park for hidden images from a 200 year-old contest, or that Operator constantly using that poor Cappy statue as target practice. Fortunately for the Overboss, nighttime usually brought relative peace up atop the Fizztop Grille where he could get some much needed rest. Mackenzie wasn't exaggerating when she mentioned how much effort it would take to keep the gangs from destroying one another, and there certainty have been times where Nate was tempted to let them do just that. But Porter Gage kept Nate's head in the game, and in just six months later, Nate now wasn't sure how he could've ever have doubted him. Nuka-World was practically the paradise that the gangs had hoped for, The gangs, especially the Operators, were all raking in the caps that were once a mere fantasy, The Disciples were quenching their thirst for blood, and the Pack were... getting whatever the hell it is that they're into. As time went on, trust for the new Overboss only grew more and more. Even Nisha, who was particularly hesitant about Nate at first, has since come to respect and even admire him.  
  
"What'd I tell you, boss?" Porter Gage chuckled, patting the Overboss on the back as they both stood on the upper patio of the restaurant overlooking the park-- Overboss Nate's park. "It's a beautiful thing, isn't it?"  
  
"Part of it _is_ thanks to you, Gage." Nate agreed with a hint of a smirk.  
  
"Oh? So you've finally come to your senses? Well, it's about damn time." He said, still chuckling heartedly.

Nate breathed out a laugh of his own. "Oh, shut up."  
  
"Yes, boss." Gage answered sarcastically.  
  
Nate and Gage had become close friends over time. Gage even had the "honor" of being declared the Overboss's right-hand man, or dare he say, second-in-command. Gage was reluctant to accept the title at first, as part of him still wondered if any of the gangs would turn on either of them without notice. Even to this day, a few of the gang members still held a grudge against Porter Gage for being the reason Colter became their ultimately shitty Overboss. But tensions slowly but surely eased as progress on the park was finally being made, the number of raiders who would give Gage the stink-eye decreased, and Nate reassured the more veteran raider that it was only a matter of time before the gangs would all finally forget the whole damn thing. There was no denying that Nate's hard work paid off in the end, this much both he and Gage knew. This was acknowledged by both men again before they bid each other a decent rest, as there was still work to be done in the following weeks.  
  
Once Gage had left and the Overboss had his quarters to himself, Nate reflected on his life, both past and present, ever since he'd exited Vault 111. He still remembers the day he'd seen sunlight for the first time in 200 years, how different the world looked. The mission he'd set upon himself to rescue his kidnapped son and avenge his wife... only to learn that his son had been raised and effectively brainwashed by his captors. Nate rubbed his temples as his memories went on the attack. Call him a hypocrite for becoming a raider overboss, but at least none of them are running around while preaching about being "humanity's best hope" while basically proving how contradictory their true intentions were. How exactly is kidnapping and murdering innocent people just to replace them with look-alike machines aiding mankind? At least the raiders have a more logical goal, or a more fancier way as Lizzie put it, "self-preservation." So what if some innocent lives are affected by what the raiders do as well? Tough. This world is beyond cruel, and if you want to survive out here, you cannot afford to cower and submit. The cost could prove fatal.  
  
Even here and now, as the Overboss of three raider gangs, you can't just let your guard down. Anarchy and ensuring chaos could spark at any point, and you possibly wouldn't live long enough to realize what had just happened. Still, why would Nate ever trade his current life for that of which he'd had in the Commonwealth? At least here he's being rewarded for the risk of being alive, whereas out there, hard and honest work barely paid off. And what else does he even have to live for? His wife, gone. His son, gone. As far as Nate was concerned, Shaun was also lost in that vault along with Nora, both never to be seen alive again, while "Shaun", or Father, or whatever the hell he called himself, was nothing more than just some delusional scientist using more of the Institute's mindfuckery on Nate as if he hadn't endured enough of that from the moment he'd watched his wife die in front of him. "I am Shaun" my ass. Even when Nate tried to help and give the old man one last chance, the stubborn fool insisted on staying down there. In any case, Nate still has no regrets pushing that big red button.  
  
It didn't matter in the end, nothing did other than what was in front of him now. Porter Gage was right to call out the Minutemen, the Railroad, the Brotherhood of Steel, and the Institute for what they all truly represented. Nothing short of lost causes and false hope the lot of them were. It took Nate this long to realize how pointless everything was. _"Ya don't need 'em, anyway, boss."_ Gage assured the new Overboss. And at this point, Nate couldn't agree more.  
  
Caps, chems, and other assorted treasures, three whole raider gangs, and a park full of submissive traders all under his thumb. If Nate didn't know any better, it's as if everything he's been through, from all the trauma, pain, and suffering fighting his way through the wastelands, trying to find the Institute only to ultimately wind up empty, making his way through that God-forsaken gauntlet, all leading up to now, it was like a blessing in disguise. This was his calling.  
  
After the parks were all under control, Gage had began notice some lingering restlessness among the gangs. He'd suggested to the Overboss that they expand their reach beyond the park. Nate initially thought that that would be a waste of time, as there wasn't much else to see outside of Nuka-World. The town of Bradberton up north was pretty much destroyed, not a lot to salvage, and certainly not an ideal place to move into considering that the hellhole was teeming with feral ghouls. There was a Gunner base to the east, and some Super Mutants holed up to the west. And even though neither one were a huge threat, the idea of an old, decrepit bridge or some messy rusty shed didn't sound very appealing to the Overboss, or to the other gangs for that matter. Shank raised the concept of aiming for the Commonwealth, and that suggestion was more well-received.  
  
It didn't take very long for one Preston Garvey to catch what was going on. As disappointed as he was, he insisted that Nate was still General of the Minutemen. However, Nate flatly turned down the position. He was done with all of that. Why should he continue to risk life and limb for some weak-ass farmers when after all of that his own son turned out to be some ungrateful quack actively inflicting human suffering as the Institute's Director? It seemed pointless. It _was_ pointless. Nate didn't care if Preston refused to forgive him or not, nor was he concerned with the fact that he was still "technically" the General. Despite what Nate had become, Garvey was persistent that Nate would retain the position that had been bestowed upon him, and it would remain that way no matter what. But that simply wasn't relevant anymore.  
  
As far as expanding the raiders' bases goes, the Commonwealth was the most logical choice. There just isn't much else within Nuka-World itself. Farther west of the Super Mutants was the power plant, southwest are the Hubologists, or should Nate say, _was_. Those kooks got themselves killed trying to go to outer space on that freaking amusement park ride. Is it any wonder why that thing was sitting in the middle of a junkyard in the first place? Past the Hubologists is the Grandchester Mystery Mansion attraction where a rogue Gunner was hiding out, occasionally selling weapons and ammo to the raider gangs for some food and caps. Southeast of the park was mostly empty space except for a cluster of empty buildings that appear to have been lived in at some point after the Great War, as noted by some wooden barricades. Sure, they could expand out there but only if the gangs were willing to get their hands dirty and do some building, but Nate already knew well enough from the outposts he's established in the Commonwealth that manual labor simply wasn't the raiders' thing-- he'd have to do most of it himself. Directly south was the same thing, pretty much nothing out there. That is, except for a small makeshift home roughly a quarter of a mile from the park, habited by a young man named Evan.  
  
Evan, now that was a peculiar fellow. He was kind, and almost unnaturally friendly. A stark contrast to almost every other person Nate has ever encountered in the wastelands. He can still fully recount the day he first met Evan, and the interactions that followed.

* * *

_Nate's feet ached as he continued walking due south of Nuka-World's main entrance and past the transit hub, unsure on what he would find out here, or if he would find anything at all. He'd noticed some empty destroyed shops close by, but Nate was suspicious of there being something potentially unpleasant hiding inside, and he wasn't currently armed properly to deal with whatever could be waiting. He chose to ignore the buildings and press on southward, soon catching sight of a trailer raised on stilts while a large storage container held up the front porch. Up on the roof Nate saw a tattered umbrella erected from above the house and a figure sat underneath it, shaded from the direct sun. He thought about calling out to the person, but they didn't seem to notice Nate even as he had approached the home and began climbing the steps. The former vault dweller ascended a second set of stairs where he reached the rooftop, now getting a better look at the individual sat on a chair, their gaze towards the distance and away from the intruder. Though the person appeared to be a fully grown man, he was considerably younger in age compared to Nate. The kid donned what probably used to be two long-sleeved shirts layered together, one with a hood and one without, both with the sleeves torn off at the elbows. Dirty, white cloth was wrapped around his forearms, still leaving his elbows exposed, and his pants were scraps of cloth in varying shades mended together. A large, blue scarf was worn loosely around his neck with each ends hanging halfway down his back and torso, and a green beanie could be seen beneath the hood. Nate had seen similar outfits worn by people back in the Commonwealth.  
  
_ _Now standing practically next to the seemingly oblivious boy, Nate emitted an audible *ahem* hoping that he would finally get some sort of reaction from the unnamed individual. The young man turned his head to face the newcomer. Without skipping a beat, he spoke.  
  
_ _"Well, hey there. What brings you all the way out here?"_

_Nate was caught off guard by the friendly response. He had already braced himself for some sort of harsh or insulting choice of words, but was instead met by genuine kindness. The new Overboss was inherently suspicious and was already preparing himself for the worst yet to come. No longer concerned about coming off as rude, he answered coldy, "That's none of your business." And in Nate's own justification, his answer was technically correct, even if he is the one who is trespassing._

_"Whoa. Whoa, whoa, okay. Take it easy." The younger man raised his hands up in defense. "I'm just trying to break the ice, you know?" He chuckled lightly. Nate was definitely confused now. What was this kid's deal? His calm and gentle demeanor was like nothing Nate had ever seen since he'd left the vault. At this point, the wanderer was at a loss for words. The boy could seemingly sense that he was not going to get an immediate response, so he proceeded to introduce himself.  
  
"The name's Evan. I've been out here for years now. I guess you say that I like the peace and quiet, and the view." Evan then broke eye-contact with the stranger and returned his gaze to the distant landscape. "Well, look for yourself. It's something else." Nate followed where Evan stared. He wasn't sure if he should agree or not. Sure, maybe 200 years ago this place would have looked nice compared to the irradiated wasteland it is now, but even still, it wasn't necessarily a bad view either. Evan waited patiently for the stranger to react, but after a brief silence, he continued, "Since you took the trouble to find me, the least I can do is return the favor. Need any supplies?"  
  
Nate's cautiousness had yet to subside in spite of the warm attitude of the younger man. He still didn't know what Evan was capable of. Having spent enough time in the Commonwealth, let alone around the hardened, bitter inhabitants of Far Harbor, and of course the raider gangs here in Nuka-World, he'd learned a long time ago to be ready for anything and everything. With suspicious daggers, he dared to ask, "What's the catch?"  
  
"No catch, no trick." Evan replied with a smile. "Let's just say that I've been out there, and I know that the world can be a cruel and unfriendly place." His smile dampened and his tone softened a little, giving a feeling of sincerity to his words. Then the somber shift quickly reverted. "So, is there anything I can help you with?"  
  
Finally, Nate couldn't help but allow his tense shoulders to relax. There was just something special about Evan, and while he couldn't promptly put his finger on it, it was just there. As far as the older man could tell, Evan was a rare type, a grade-A, genuine individual. Not someone to fear, just a young man with nothing but goodness in his heart. And at such a young age, Nate almost found himself admiring the boy. To have maintained such an amiable personality after all these years, still not tainted by the cruelty of the harsh wasteland. It was downright remarkable. And as much as he appreciated Evan's hospitality, he couldn't bring it upon himself to accept the young man's offer. Besides, if anything, it was probably Evan who could use supplies more than Nate. Not wanting to sound any more impolite than he did initially, he simply answered, "No thanks. I'm fine."  
_

_"Nonsense. There's gotta be something you could use." Evan insisted, his warm smile having since returned. "Let's see here..." He trailed off as he began rummaging through a small satchel buckled around his waist. Finally, he pulled out a blue hardcopy book with a red binding. "Here ya go. I found this on the outskirts of Nuka-World a while back. Isn't doing me any good."  
  
Nate accepted the book and examined the cover. "_The Official Nuka-World Recipe Book. _" He read aloud, then a brief hesitation followed. "Thanks."  
  
Evan's smile never faltering, "Glad to help." he said. Not wanting an awkward silence to develop, he initiated again, "Well, it's been nice having a visitor. Feel free to stay for a while, and help yourself to anything else I have lying around the place." Nate opened his mouth to protest but Evan unintentionally cut him off before he could say anything. "Don't mind me. I'm just gonna hang out around here and enjoy the view." With that, the younger man carefully stood from his chair to get a better vanity point. The military veteran thanked him again and bid him goodbye before proceeding down the wooden steps.  
  
"Safe travels, stranger." Evan said kindly before Nate disappeared around the corner of the top of the trailer, with only the sounds of his footsteps being heard before he returned in view, now on the ground and walking back towards the park. Nate carefully tucked the recipe book safely away in the pocket of his armor chest piece. He was eager to take the damn thing off and get a much needed rest. At least the time spent chatting with Evan allowed for Nate's sore feet to get some relief._

* * *

Nate honestly felt guilty for having almost forgotten about the generous young man. It's been a few months since their encounter. He wondered how Evan was doing, and how pleasant it would be to to pay him another visit. Chances are high that Evan doesn't receive many visitors and Nate could only assume that the raider gangs, Super Mutants, and Gunners don't make the best of company. That's a possible reason as to why the kind young lad prefers to be alone in the first place. The wanderer was already creating a plan in his head to stop by Evan's home. Hopefully he would have a chance to sooner than later, as it sure sounded like there's a lot of shit that still needs to be done around here, and beyond as well due to the gangs' presences in the Commonwealth.  
  
His thoughts were interrupted and he jumped slightly, startled by the sudden mechanical humming of the lift. The wheels grinded as they spun, moving the thick black cables. The Overboss was about to demand who dared to intrude on his quarters this late at night, and why. When the lift and its occupants reached its destination, Nate could see that there were three raiders, one from each of the gangs, all standing proudly above a pathetic-looking figure who was on their knees while staring down towards the ground, their face further concealed by a hood they were wearing. A gun was pointed at their head, and their hands were tied behind their back. To Nate, it looked like they had snagged another random wastelander likely not from the immediate area. About a month ago, the Overboss had created a new "system" where any unknown scavvers, whom of which none of the gangs recognized, found anywhere around the park were to be "escorted" to the Overboss's chambers to where which he would decide their fate. Overboss Nate would look them over to determine what ways their latest "catch" could be useful. If the Overboss could not come up with any ideas, then the gangs were to be granted free reign on what to do with the new vic, much to the delight of the Disciples and the Pack. The Operators generally couldn't be bothered if the "fresh meat" wasn't carrying any caps, or any sort of items of significant monetary value. At which point, Mags and the others wanted nothing to do with it, they ultimately saw it as a waste of time otherwise. The Overboss was still tasked in having to choose which gang would get to keep their latest prize, often resulting in squabbles between the Pack and the Disciples. Usually, Nate would give it to the gang that had been the most loyal in recent times. Alternatively, he would choose at random mostly for his own amusement.  
  
The three raiders dragged their captive inside the patio then carelessly tossed it onto the floor like a sack of tatoes towards the Overboss. One of the gang members, an Operator, began patting down on the hapless victim lying face first on the ground, who made no effort to fight back. She began investigating every pocket and crevice on their vic's outfit. "11 caps? That's it?" She scowled in disappointment. " Seriously? A pipe revolver? What a piece of shit."  
  
"Hold up a second." Overboss Nate interrupted angrily. "I believe I haven't made my decision yet. When the fuck did I give you the go-ahead to loot them?" The Operated immediately stopped what she was doing and stood back up. "Sorry, boss. This is my first patrol where we finally caught something. I just got too excited, that's all." She stammered nervously. Nate ultimately ignored her and examined the figure still lying relatively still on the floor. He hadn't noticed their newest catch move around much, and he almost wondered if they were already dead. "Is this one even still alive?"  
  
"Let's find out!" The Pack member exclaimed before landing a swift kick into their vic's side. The captive grunted slightly in response to the blow, they rolled onto their right side, then they buckled over in pain after receiving another kick to the stomach. "Yep, still breathin', for now." The raider cackled.  
  
Nate felt himself fill up with a weird sensation that he could not readily describe. It was hard to put it in words, but something just felt... off. It didn't make sense though. He's gone through this dozens of times since the new "system" was put into place. And while the first few occasions did take some getting used to, handy advice from the raiders helped Nate get over any feelings of remorse or guilt while dealing with these "wanted intruders." No amount of begging or laughable threatening could faze him. The Overboss certainly couldn't afford to be displaying second thoughts or any mushy shit like that, especially not when his gangs are in his presence. He has worked so much to gain the respect, and perhaps fear from the raider gangs, there's simply no way he could jeopardize it like that, not even a little bit.  
  
The Disciple hurried over and grabbed the bound individual, hoisting them back into an upright position and onto their knees. "How about you stop kissing the floor and start showing some respect for the Overboss? He likes to get a good look at all new vics before deciding how to have some 'fun' with them." The bloodthirsty raider gripped the prisoner's head and roughly forced them to face the Overboss standing before them. The first thing Nate noticed was a pair of innocent amber eyes staring back at him. Even as their body was still being gripped onto by the Disciple they were shaking visibly, Nate could see light reflecting off of wet streaks running down their face, and a bloody bruise peeked out from behind their hood, a little had begun to seep through the fabric as well.  
  
In that moment, time stood still for Nate. It felt like V.A.T.S. under the influence of Jet. He could feel the color drain from his own face, his heart sank like he'd swallowed an 80-lb weight only for it to land right on top of it, and he felt like he had been punched in the gut by 20 deathclaws. _It couldn't be... It shouldn't be. It mustn't_ _be!_ No, this had to be a coincidence. Yes, that's the only logical answer. This is simply another common wastelander the patrols found that needs to be dealt with. There's no fucking way that this is who Nate is afraid it could be.  
  
"Well, Overboss Nate?" The Disciple spoke up. "I believe we are waiting." He said in a singsong tone. Nate wasn't sure what to say, but he knew he had to say something. The gangs weren't about to stand there for much longer if he didn't make a decision. He then came up with the idea to stall until he could finally wrap his head around what the hell is going on.

"So, where did you guys find this one, anyway?"  
  
"We found him living in some crappy house just a little ways from Nuka-World." The Pack member answered. "And get this, the simpleton even asked us if we wanted any supplies!" He laughed. "All he had was useless shit anyway."  
  
Nate's state of surprise and perplexment were both promptly exchanged for one of anger like nothing he had felt in a long time. The color in his face was quickly replaced and he felt himself heat up internally with pure rage, his hands balled into fists. Before anyone knew it, the Pack member was on the ground with blood pouring from his nose. Everyone present except for Nate looked shocked as they barely processed what had just occurred.  
  
"Agh! What the hell was that for, boss?" The raider cried out nasally, trying desperately to keep any more blood from escaping. The Disciple and the Operator continued to stand there in silent astonishment. Nate chose to not answer, he was Overboss after all, and he was about to use their fear of him to his advantage.  
  
"This one is mine and mine only. The rest of you, get out of my fucking quarters. Right now."  
  
"Bot, boss--"  
  
"Shall I let Mason know that you've been misbehaving? I'm sure he's already got a collar waiting with your name on it."  
  
The Pack member's eyes opened almost inhumanely wide and he transformed into a nervous wreck of a babbling mess, much to Overboss Nate's satisfaction. The raider then leapt from the ground where he had fallen from the punch, then sprinted faster than a digging mole rat on X-Cell past Nate and through the doors leading to Fizztop Grille's interior, not even bothering to use the outdoor lift. The raider simply wanted to get away from the Overboss's sight as quickly as possible. The Operator and the Disciple quickly followed suit without protest. Over the months, they had learned to respect Nate as much as fear him, and the wanderer couldn't be any more grateful than he is right now for that said fear and respect. Still, Nate was likely to find himself having to explain the next morning to the gang leaders about what went down at Fizztop Grille, but he would worry about that later.  
  
The raiders disappeared behind the heavy metal doors which closed shut with a prominent click. Nate remained where he stood, wanting to be absolutely sure that he was alone before doing virtually anything. It felt as if the building would explode if he made one false step. The atmosphere within the patio felt thick as he was still heated from what had just happened. After about 30 seconds, he started taking deep breaths to calm himself down while also mentally preparing himself to deal with the urgent task at hand.

Now that he was more confident that no one else was within sight or earshot, Nate dropped all composure. He hurried over to the captive with a look and tone of pure concern.

"Oh, my God! Are you all right? Are you hurt at all?" Nate asked frantically while trying to get a closer look for any visible signs of injury. "Here, let me help you." Nate picked up a Disciples blade off from the floor that had been accidentally dropped by one of the raiders, he then quickly stepped behind them and made short work of the ropes still binding their hands together. Nate carelessly tossed the weapon and cut rope aside, not worried about where they landed.  
  
"Thank you, stranger." A voice softly emitted from the figure as they began to message away the rope burns from their wrists.

"You're welco-- Oh, what the hell am I saying?" The older man facepalmed himself. He then positioned himself so that he was facing eye-level with the younger man. "Evan, are you hurt? Do you need a stimpak?"

"I'm OK, just a little shaken up. But thank you for asking."  
  
Nate took a deep breath while trying to regain himself. _Yep. This is definitely Evan._ No other person in this world could possibly hold such a calm and respectable reaction to the aftermath of being abducted by a bunch of raiders. Still on his knees, Evan said nothing more, but he was looking at Nate expectantly. A million thoughts ran through Nate's mind as he tried to determine what he should say to the boy next. Finally, he realized that an apology was in order and well overdue.

"Evan, I'm so, _so_ sorry about this. I should have considered the possibility of something like this happening and did something to prevent it. If there is anything, anything at all, please, tell me. I don't care what it is. Caps, food, whatever. I will make it up to you in any way that I can."

"That's very kind of you, stranger, but that really isn't necessary. You didn't mean for this to happen, and all is forgiven."

_This kid is too damn good for this world. I swear..._ "It _is_ my fault though, Evan." The Overboss argued. "In case you haven't realized yet, I'm in charge of these raider gangs. They're under my command. It was my own idea that ended up with you being taken and brought here. I just never counted on them actually finding you way out there."

Evan shrugged. "I guess it was bound to happen to me sooner or later." He said as he slowly stood to his feet. Nate followed suit in order to maintain level eye-contact. "I was just so memorized by the wonderful view even after all these years that I didn't want to leave. It was ultimately a risk that I took."

The former vault dweller sighed while looking at the ground, now feeling more guilty than ever before. "And now, thanks to me, you won't ever be able to live there anymore."

"I understand." The younger man nodded. "But, what happens to me now?"

Normally, Overboss Nate would make the new "additions" perform any assortment of jobs ranging from a personal steward to live entertainment, which often included being chow for the ghouls. But obviously, he wasn't going to decide upon anything like that in this case. Instead, he wanted to get Evan to safety, away from the raider gangs so that they couldn't possibly hurt him again. It's almost funny in a way. Nate has reached a point where he couldn't a pass a second glance at the poor unfortunate souls who found themselves at the mercy of the raiders. He had stopped caring about that quite some time ago in fact. Showing sympathy to some pathetic wastelander as they begged for their measly miserable lives reminded him too much of his time in the Commonwealth, back where he actually thought that mankind could be restored by helping worthless settlers almost every waking moment while he had his own goal of finding his kidnapped son, which still concluded with utter disappointment in the end. And now here he is, ready to display a rare show of humanity by sparing this good-natured young man from becoming the gangs' newest play toy. How could he not? After just one conversation, Nate couldn't deny that Evan is the epitome of what will actually be mankind's salvation. Genuinely good people like Evan, which are truly hard to come by out in the wastes, will be what rebuilds humanity in the long run... Almost like how what Nate used to be when he first 'joined' the Minutemen.

The Overboss messaged his temples as a headache started to form. He realized that he was now contradicting himself and everything he currently stands for. The very mindset that has brought him and the gangs to where they are currently. He cannot turn back now. Even if he wanted to, Nisha would have his head. Besides, virtually none of his former friends approved of the man Nate had become, they would never want him back into their lives anyway.

It soon registered within Nate that Evan was still waiting for an answer regarding his fate. An idea spawned in Nate's mind so he instructed the boy to wait there. He then walked over to a particularly large steamer trunk near the bed and opened it up. A wave of nostalgia struck him like a charging brahmin. It was filled with possessions he had acquired from back home. Among the items was a laser rifle that had been given to him as compensation for aiding Paladin Danse, a small grasshopper statue primarily made of copper, and an assortment of mostly intact pre-war magazines and comic books. In the middle of his search, Nate found the hat and uniform of the former General of the Minutemen that he'd come across while navigating the Castle tunnels with Ronnie Shaw. He was somewhat baffled that he had apparently kept this old thing after all this time, especially since it clearly was no longer serving him any purpose. Nate was about to give up when he finally located the target item with a cry of triumph. the wanderer was about to return to where Evan was still waiting patiently when he stopped himself, looked back down at the steamer trunk, then bent over and grabbed as many seemingly random items as he could in his arms. He walked back to where the younger man stood and unloaded the loot onto the restaurant's countertop. Evan watched with slight interest as Nate eventually revealed a key that was attached to a glowing light blue keychain.

"I own a house back in the Commonwealth, in a large settlement called Diamond City. I haven't stayed there since I came to Nuka-World, but the home is already furnished, a market is right outside, and the town is well-fortified and protected by guards and Minutemen." Nate offered the key to Evan, who examined it for a moment before reluctantly accepting it. "I'm not gonna lie, Evan, Diamond City doesn't exactly have the same view that you're used to. and there are lots of other people around, but you'll be much safer there rather than out here, and that's what's most important to me right now."

"I greatly appreciate it, stranger." Evan said before pocketing the key. "Thank you."

"Please, call me Nate."

"Okay. Thank you, Nate." The cordial lad smiled.

"The monorail at the transit center will take you to the Commonwealth, but Diamond City will still be several miles away. So I want you to have this," Nate then held up an anti-material rifle equipped with a silencer for Evan to see while expecting the boy to take it, which he eventually did. The military veteran then showcased numerous boxes of 50. caliber casings. "This will help you protect yourself as you make your way to Diamond City." After Evan accepted the ammunition, Nate propped up a large, Kevlar backpack and sat it down on the countertop, then proceeded to fill it with stimpaks, Radaway, Med-X, bottles of purified water, and preserved, packaged pre-war food.

"I really can't thank you enough for your generosity." Evan said.

Nate sighed. "Evan, after what happened today, it's the least I could do."

"Out of curiosity, I have to ask, why?"

"Um, why what?"

"Why are you saving me?" The younger man inquired.

"What exactly do you mean?"

"Why are you sparing my life instead of doing what you're supposed to do?"

Nate struggled to find words to answer the awkward question. "Uh, well, you're good person, Evan. And I mean that. You don't deserve whatever the raiders were about to do to you."  
  
"I understand." Evan acknowledged. "But what about the others?"

The Overboss opened his mouth to respond, but stopped himself. He already knew who Evan was referring to, and truth be told, he didn't have a real reason to provide other than simply "that's just what raiders do." He truly did believe that Evan is a wholesome individual who was undeserving of the gangs' atrocities, but one could argue, couldn't that also apply to most of the other scavvers and traders who have all befallen much worse fates under Nate's watch? Who's to say that they didn't also deserve a second chance at life? Who's to say that the outcome of this night would have ended very differently had he never met Evan beforehand? Nate inwardly cringed as various unpleasant scenarios ran through his mind. Indeed, had it involved any other random wastelander, he would not have given it a passing glance, but when it concerns the kind young man, suddenly, the idea of doing the very things Nate has done countless times already left him feeling aghast. This boy seemed to be the only thing right now that caused the former vault dweller to have real doubts about what he is doing with his life. Still, it's far too late for him to have reconsiderations. He's in way too deep to turn back now.

Nate sat the loaded backpack down on the floor near Evan's feet. Just as the younger man was about to pick it up, Nate stopped him. "I do have one favor to ask of you." Evan agreed without hesitation and the older man walked back over to the steamer trunk, retrieved the old Minutemen General's uniform and hat, then returned to where Evan stood.

"There's someone I used to know back at the Commonwealth. His name is Preston Garvey and he is with the Minutemen. He was the one who promoted me as General shortly after we first met." Nate handed the clothes to the curious young man. "After you get to Diamond City, find Mr. Garvey and give these to him. And if you can remember to, please tell him that I believe he is more deserving to have these than I am."

"I will." Evan responded. "I promise."

"Don't worry about it if you aren't able to or if you don't. It's just that I myself can't."

"If I may ask, how come you can't?"

The wanderer scratched the back of his head nervously then sighed heavily. "Preston trusted me to rebuild the Minutemen and to rebuild humanity. Part of it was because he didn't believe in himself after losing a lot of people under his watch. I not only agreed, I actually did successfully unite the farms and settlements around the Commonwealth. But when I came to Nuka-World, I got roped into this "job". I didn't have a choice at first, and I still don't now, technically." Nate took a shuddery breath and his voice grew soft and shaky, all the while Evan was listening intently to every word, never breaking eye-contact once. "I saw my wife get murdered and my son Shaun kidnapped right in front of me, and there was nothing I could do. I went through practical hell and back trying to find Shaun, and when I finally did... Shaun had aged while I was frozen in the vault, and after I found out what kind of person he'd become... I left him to die. My own son..." Nate chocked out a sob then he buried his face in his hands which soon became soaked with tears. He couldn't possibly remember the last time he had ever cried, this hard no less. He tried to fight it as best he could, but it was no use. It was like floodgates had burst open and emotions were pouring out. He knew he shouldn't be displaying such 'weak' behavior, especially not as the Overboss of three raider gangs and he needed to stop himself, but then a pair of arms wrapped around him and a head gently rested above his own while a soft humming had begun to register. His comforter's chest vibrated as the calming, unnamed tune gently filled his ears. Nate's mind was screaming at himself to do something, anything, but he simply could not. Eventually, he allowed the younger man to comfort him, not caring about his image or manliness or anything else at the moment. After a couple of minutes, his crying had ceased and only a few stray tears remained. He quickly wiped them away as he could feel himself relaxing more. He didn't want to admit it, but he really needed to let it out, and now that he finally did, it honestly felt good. Like a massive weight had been lifted off from his shoulders. Evan released the older man from the hug and he was thanked profusely for his kindness.

Nate went on to detail the rest of his past, from the vault and up to now. From rebuilding the Commonwealth to becoming the very thing the Minutemen had sworn to fight against. How he went from setting out to reunite with the last of his family to feeling like nothing mattered in life anymore. The thoughtful boy hanging onto every word Nate said.

"And now you know my true identity." The former vault dweller explained. "All of what I went through, leading up to now. This is me. This is who I am; a bloodthirsty, cap-stealing, innocent-torturing, chem-dealing raider." He continued, his voice seemingly betraying himself. "And this is who I will be when I die. I can never go back, I can never redeem myself for all the things that I've done. My son, Shaun, my... friend, Preston, none of them."

"I disagree." Evan said simply.

Nate shut his eyes and exhaled deeply through his nose. He could feel himself becoming frustrated, though he wasn't sure if it was directed towards Evan or towards himself. "Don't you get it? I've sealed my fate. I'm hell-bound. My friends would never forgive me for the person that I've become, Preston has already made it clear of that. My wife and son are both _dead_ , and there is nothing I can do to bring them back, nor any of the countless other people I've killed..." The Overboss's voice grew quiet. "Or even all the future lives that I'll no doubt claim." With a heavy sigh, Nate hung his head. "It's too late for me, I'm hopeless."

"But you've already proven to me that that isn't true."

The older man lifted his head and looked at Evan, befuddled. "Didn't you hear a word I just said?"

"Now, hear me out," Evan calmly protested. "Would a 'murderous, torturous' raider have saved my life earlier? Or would someone who still has time to do the right thing, someone who still has some good inside of them have done so instead?"

The military veteran shook his head. "Evan, I appreciate what you're trying to say, I really do. But with all the damage that I've inflicted upon this world, there's simply no possible way that I can take it all back."

"Be that as it may, redemption is always possible."

Nate scoffed. "What are you, Evan? A priest?"

"Nope." The younger man smiled. "I simply think that anyone who is willing to try deserves another chance, no matter how dark their past is. It is called 'the past' for a reason."

"But what if I hurt someone again? What if I were to try and change only to revert to my old, raider ways?"

"That's a question that no one can answer one way or the other, not until you give it a shot."

Nate wanted nothing more than to provide a solid counterargument, but racking through his brain turned up nothing. Deep down, he knew that Evan was right. If he is to redeem himself, he would need to take those first steps. Suddenly, several gunshots rang out in quick succession from down below the patio, followed by whooping and cheering. Both men jumped at the unexpected ruckus. Nate wasn't sure how long he and Evan have been conversing, but he did know that he needed to get the younger man out of Nuka-World lest any of the gangs spot them. Evan slipped his arms through the straps of the olive green backpack and put it on before grabbing his new rifle. The wanderer then realized that he needed to find a way to get Evan to the monorail without him getting caught. Nate returned to the trunk for one last item, what he pulled up was a metallic piece of headgear. Prominent slits on the front promoted breathing, individual goggle glasses welded near the center were to enable the wearer to see out. Metal stakes ending in ring formations protruded from each side, and a brass outline of a capital letter M was positioned above the eyes of the headwear. It was the Mechanist's helmet given to Nate by Isabel Cruz. He all but ordered the younger man to put it on over his head.

"I know it looks silly, but if any of the raiders see and recognize you, it could end very badly." The wanderer explained. Evan fully understood the severity of the situation and did as he was told without question. Once Nate was confident that Evan had everything he needed for his journey, they both stepped onto the lift and Nate pressed the red button which prompted the lift to descend down to the front doors of Fizztop Grille. A small band of raiders were doing who-knows-what beneath one of the outdoor lights from the restaurant. The pair chose to ignore them and immediately started walking towards the transit hub.

"Hey, Overboss!" An Operator called out from the pond he'd been standing in while searching for anything of value before approaching the two. Nate and Evan froze, they were initially counting on not drawing any significant attention to themselves. "Whose the new guy?" The raider pointed towards the unknown individual.

"Uh, they're not sure which gang they want to join yet, so I'm taking them to go and meet the leaders." The Overboss fibbed while internally praying that he sounded convincing enough.

"Oh, okay then." The raider replied before looking at Evan-in-disguise. "Between you and me, kid, consider joining the Operators 'specially if you're into caps. I mean, who isn't? But seriously, talk to Mags, our leader, and tell her I sent ya." Evan simply nodded and that seemed to satisfy the Operator enough to return to whatever he was doing. Nate gave Evan a gentle push forward, silently indicating that they needed to quicken their pace before any more interruptions could occur. Luck seemed to be on their side as they soon made it inside the monorail station where Evan could finally remove the heavy helmet. The boy offered Nate the headwear back, but was persuaded into keeping it as a souvenir.

"So, I guess this is goodbye?" Evan inquired.

"Indeed, it is." The older man confirmed with a single nod.

"Thank you again, Nate, for everything."

"Don't mention it, son. And I do hope you make it to Diamond City safely, or I swear I'll beat you myself if you don't." Nate smirked.

"I'll be sure to keep that in mind." Evan chuckled. "But more importantly, I'll never forget what you did tonight, Nate. The choices you made are the reasons I'm still here. Thank you, from the bottom of my heart."

Nate swallowed but said nothing. He was slightly caught off guard when the younger man suddenly stepped forward and wrapped him a hug, which he promptly returned. They separated after a moment and Evan boarded the waiting monorail. Nate observed him as he reached the driver's seat and activated the controls. "Please stand clear of the doors." The automated intercom chirped. "Por favor, mantente alejada de las puertas." The doors quickly closed and the monorail accelerated at an increasing speed.

"Good luck out there, Nate!" Evan yelled through the broken window as he waved. The sole survivor watched as the friendly young man and the monorail grew smaller and smaller before both vanishing around the corner.

"Goodbye, Evan."

* * *

It has been about two months since Nate saw Evan off from Nuka-World, and to this day he still hasn't confirmed whether the kid actually made it safely or not. The following morning, it was business as usual at the park and the Overboss simply didn't have time to focus on much else. In his spare time, he still thought about Evan a lot, but he could only hope and pray that his efforts to protect the boy hadn't wound up in vain. He hoped that he had provided Evan with enough supplies to last him through the trek to Diamond City, and that the Commonwealth hasn't mistreated him too terribly much, or worse.

The Overboss found himself seated in his quarters on Fizztop Grille's patio, Porter Gage was stood next to him. Facing them were the three gang leaders, their collective expression were rather grim. According to Shank, they've lost contact with yet another outpost in the Commonwealth, this time it was one of the Operators' bases. The one before that belonged to the Pack where very few got out with their lives. Nisha was especially concerned that it was only a matter of time before the Disciples took the next hit. According to reports, the Minutemen have regained momentum under new leadership, having initially gone dark after their previous general had quit long ago. Apparently, they've accumulated firepower like nothing anyone had seen before, although some skepticism regarding the details plagued the participants of the important meeting.

"Some of my guys were saying that those militia wannabes came rolling up on these big cannons on wheels," Mason explained. "and they were actually driving them like some sort of engine-powered pre-war land vehicle. And a bunch of them also came in riding on fucking radstags."

"Motorized wheeled artillery?" Mags raised an eyebrow.

"And riding on the backs of radstags?" Nisha reiterated while attempting to maintain a straight face. "I always took you for a neanderthal, Mason, but you've clearly gone off the deep end now."   
  
"Shut up." The Pack leader growled. "I'm just repeating what my guys told me."

"Whatever the case may be," Mags interjected. "These Minutemen pests and this new general of theirs are proving to be a major nuisance to our humble little way of life."

"As much as I hate to sound like a spoilsport, they have real potential to ruin everything we've worked for if we don't put a stop to them-- And by 'we' I mean you, Overboss." Nisha hinted.

"I'll get on it." Nate pledged before rising up from his seat.

"That's a good Overboss." The Disciples' leader smiled. "Of course, I wouldn't have accepted anything less."

"Shall I tag along, boss?" Porter Gage asked.

Nate only thought for a moment before answering. "No, thanks. I've got this."

Gage frowned but decided not to argue. "Suit yourself, then." The former mercenary shrugged.

The Overboss packed up some supplies before heading out to the Commonwealth. Nisha had requested that he stop by at the Abernathy Farm where some of her gang were situated as it was on the way to the Oberland Station where some of the Operators were last seen. A short ride on the monorail later, Nate arrived at the transit center and trekked outside where the rotting remains of Commander Kaylor and several Gunners still littered the area, the smell somehow made their existence pretty evident even after all these months. A lone radroach was nibbling on the carrion of one of the Gunners' corpses.

Roughly an hour after his arrival to the Commonwealth, he reached the farm formerly owned by the Abernathys, the family Nate had previous aided on several occasions during his time in the Minutemen. Blake Abernathy and his family were still present, servicing long hours to keep their food supply going like usual, except they were now working under the watch of armed Disciples who kept most of the food for themselves, only allowing the family barely enough to not starve. The lone wanderer was met with a not so warm welcome of guns pointed at his face by several raiders, but once they realized that it was only Overboss Nate, they stood down. One of the Disciples approached him.

"Overboss, you here to give us a hand in case those Minutemen bastards show up? Heard they recently wiped out Mags' people." The raider said. "Maybe, you know, help us beef up our defenses and shit."

_Jesus, you guys almost remind me of settlers._ "Sure." Nate confirmed. "Just tell me what to do."

The Overboss constructed a couple additional machinegun turrets with what limited materials were around, then he 'volunteered' to help stand guard just in case his extra gun were to be needed. As the day passed, nothing out of the ordinary occurred, and it was quite boring, in fact. After a few rounds of Zeta Invaders, Nate was about to propose that he stop wasting time and head towards Oberland Station. Some of the Disciples had invited him to stick around so that they could use one of the farmers to play "Raider Tag", a 'game' where they scare one of the settlers into fleeing into the wilderness while the gang members pursue the hapless target with blades. The Overboss was desperate enough to break free from the dullness of the day that he was willing to participate, but then a low, rumbling sound could be heard off in the distance. Many opinions were thrown about as to what the source of the noise could be, ranging from a horde of deathclaws to the world itself about to explode. Shortly after the rumbling began, they could feel the ground vibrating. The feeling wasn't sudden and sporadic like what a behemoth's footsteps would make, instead it was gentle and continuous. One of the Disciples ordered a seemingly younger-looking one to scout ahead and determine what the hell is going on. The raider sprinted towards and up a small hill. Upon reaching the crest, he quickly hurried back down to their outpost, all the while cursing between breaths.

"It's those assholes here to come mess up our shit." The raider explained.

"Disciples, to arms!"

Nate stood there like a statue as the raiders all ran around gathering and preparing weapons. If what the surviving Pack members said was indeed true, then he wasn't very confident in their ability to fend off a small army with the type of arsenal that they allegedly had, not when all the raiders had were just a bunch of rifles, shotguns, and knives. One of the turrets mounted on the corner of the roof of the farmhouse buzzed with alertness before the automated barrel pointed towards the hill where the rumbling grew closer and louder and it begun to fire rounds. The turret ended in a small explosion before the Disciples positioned themselves behind barricades, meanwhile, one of them grabbed one of the settlers, deciding to use them as a shield instead while ignoring their pleas.

Nate saw the end of a cannon rise over the hill where he soon got a whole view of the contraption. It looked very much like the artillery the Minutemen used back at the Castle, only it was on a platform made of thick, heavy-duty steel instead of concrete, and it was narrower too. A row of several large wheels were connected to each side of the platform, it looked similar to that of a pre-war military tank. Black smog billowed out from exhaust pipes protruding from the rear of the vehicle where the engine was encased behind metal. The cannon was operated by an unseen individual, safely hidden behind walls of thick steel with only small windows providing visibility from inside the cabin. At least four mobile artilleries were present, but that wasn't all. A large herd of ragstags carrying Minutemen on their backs trampled the ground around the vehicles. Those that had antlers had had them sawed off to avoid unintentional harm to the riders. Nate noticed all of the radstags were outfitted with leather saddles much like the ones worn by horses before the war, and only one of the heads was equipped with a bit and reins for the rider to control. Presumably, only one of the radstag's heads was the "dominant" one. There were a few units on foot, and they were all donning full suits of power armor, something the Minutemen have never been known to utilize before. The ones in power armor were armed with miniguns, while the ones mounted on radstags yielded the traditional laser muskets, except for one of them who was positioned up front, instead carrying a rifle.

This individual in particular was riding an albino radstag, in contrast to the rest who rode on brown or pink steeds. The rider was wearing a very familiar get-up, but much nicer than what Nate had ever seen. It was the General's uniform and hat, only they looked like they had undergone a much needed run through the washing machine, which ultimately couldn't be possible since technology such as that has long since been lost after the Great War. And yet, the outfit was in such pristine condition, the colors practically glowed in the sunlight, it was like it had been pulled straight out of the pre-war era, the cloth free of any stains, holes, or nuclear fallout. In fact, all of the Minutemen donned such fine and radiant looking outfits that could only be compared to the standards of the Institute, or Vault 81.

Nate wondered if that was Preston who was the one up front leading the charge. _Did Preston finally grow some balls and step in as general?_ Due to the brim of the hat, and the fact that the person was also sporting black-rimmed glasses, Nate couldn't readily identify who this new general was. But then he spotted him, Preston Garvey himself, the man who always managed to pull out a settlement in need somewhere from his ass, riding closely behind the General on a brown radstag mount, his trusty laser musket in one hand and his other one controlling the reins of his steed. Next to Preston was Ronnie Shaw, that tough old bird still kicking after all this time, riding on a pink stag of her own.

The former vault dweller was genuinely impressed at the sight before him. That sort of firepower would certainly make the Brotherhood of Steel envious. Before he knew it, Disciples running towards the army came into his view, some in the back began firing towards the Minutemen. The ones on mounts quickly repositioned themselves to the backlines while the others in power armor took point up front as the artillery chugged forward. The Disciple still holding onto their meat shield forced them forward towards the approaching army, feeling confident that the Minutemen would be hesitant to open fire towards an innocent. The General, who was still near the back with the other mounts, aimed their rifle straight towards the direction of the raider and their hostage before firing, the bullet landing its mark directly into the Disciple's forehead who dropped dead, their blood splattered all over the now freed settler as she screamed and ran for cover. Some of the raiders broke from their cover, charging in with blades like madmen only to be quickly wiped out by miniguns. Those with firearms tried shooting at the artillery. If those contraptions were anything like the nuclear-powered automobiles that littered the wastelands, the rounds should result in an immanent explosion that would take out their whole army. The gang members peppered the makeshift tanks, but they seemed to have no effect, their bullets simply deflected off of the metal. One even ricocheted off and instantly killed the Disciple who'd fired it. The Overboss had already noticed the number of raiders dwindle once he'd recovered from his slight state of shock. He ducked behind a wall of sandbags and loaded the magazine of a combat sniper rifle before looking into the scope and aiming. He was initially looking for the General, but settled on some other mounted Minutemen who he had a clear shot of. He reached for the trigger and pulled, but not before another knife-wielding maniac jumped into view, taking the bullet instead. Nate watched as one-by-one, the raiders were transformed into steaming piles of ash. He knew that they were helplessly outnumbered and outgunned. With the raiders' group much smaller than when they'd started, the mounted militia broke their own cover and charged in on their radstags. Overboss Nate knew that they were all going to die if they tried to stay any longer so he ordered the remaining Disciples to fall back. The gang members refused to listen as if they didn't hear him and they stood their ground.

One of the raiders spotted a settler hiding behind a workbench and they quickly seized them. The General noticed this and hurriedly dismounted from his radstag and aimed his rifle while approaching the Disciple hiding completely behind the terrified settler. Nate could barely hear what the General was saying in the midst of the ongoing chaos, but he could only assume that the General was demanding the Disciple to let the settler go. Naturally, the raider refused, intending to use their hostage as means of escape. The military veteran felt his breathing skip when he saw another Disciple running towards the General from behind with a blade. Out of nowhere, a figure clad in a dirty trench coat and fedora holding a pistol appeared behind the raider with the knife, and a very shot rang out. The Disciple fell to the ground, dead. Just as the unknown figure had appeared right before Nate's eyes, they vanished into thin air. The unseen event caught the General's attention off-guard as they spun around to determine what just happened. While the General was distracted, the other Disciple threw their hostage aside and aimed a double-barreled shotgun almost point-blank range at the General. Before the raider could pull the trigger, the General swiftly struck the Disciple with their rifle, causing them to stagger. The General quickly fired, killing their opponent.

Nate had seen enough. He was not going to stay here and die all because those fools don't know how to combat properly or listen to him. He knew it was uncharacteristic and downright cowardly, but as far as he was concerned, the last of the raiders were as good as dead. Knowing he had little time, the Overboss simply fled the Abernathy Farm, heading back towards the direction of the Nuka-World Transit Center as the firefight began to calm down as the last of the Disciples were eliminated. Nate heard a loud boom and he dared to look behind him where he could see smoke coming from one of the recently fired cannons. Fearing that he was the target, he sprinted faster while looking up towards the sky. When he saw nothing, he looked around frantically. He barely caught sight of one last Disciple in the distance who was also fleeing but in a different direction from Nate. before the raider disappeared into a moderate-sized fiery explosion. The Overboss resumed running before he heard a series of rapid hoofbeats. He looked behind him again and saw several mounted Minutemen charging his way. Nate gripped his gun as he continued to flee. If he was going to go down, he wouldn't without a fight at least. As he was bracing himself, the mounts came to a screeching halt before quickly retreating back to the Disciples' former outpost. Nate was very confused by the Minutemen's sudden change in tactics, but he decided now was not the time to question anything until he could get somewhere safe. Once he was sure that he was no longer being pursued, he never looked back again as he sprinted into the wilderness of the Commonwealth.

* * *

"So, how did it go? I hope you taught those parasites not to mess with the Disciples."

"Actually, the idiots got themselves all killed. I barely made it out alive myself."

"What?" Nisha questioned tensely.

"Mason wasn't bullshitting, the Minutemen have truly become a force to be reckoned with." Nate explained. "The artillery on wheels, even the part about riding radstags, it's all true."

"I'm disappointed in you, Overboss. I asked for results, and I expected them."

"Why don't you try facing a bunch of fucking bulletproof tanks, Nisha?" The Overboss argued, he could feel himself growing frustrated. "Think you could've done any better?"

"I'm not in the mood for your excuses, boss." The Disciples' leader sneered. "I had come to look up to you at one point, very much like I had to Colter. But I'm starting to wonder if I'm just making the same mistakes again."

"Don't you dare compare me to that worthless piece of garbage." Nate threatened. "Look at all that I've done for this place. All the caps and chems and shit we've hauled in. Does that really mean nothing to you now?"

"At the rate things are going, we're going to end up right back to where we started unless you start doing your job correctly." Nisha contended. "Don't start selling us short now, Overboss Nate. I shouldn't need to remind you of how that went for Colter."

* * *

"Hey, boss, can we talk?"

"What the hell do you want, Gage?"

The former mercenary was honestly taken aback by the response. He understood that the Overboss was under a lot of pressure and stress, but being the Overboss's "second-in-command" he expected to receive more faith from Nate, even though Gage has been losing faith himself in the Overboss. "I just want to check in and see how you're holding up. That's all."

"I'm fine. Now leave me the fuck alone."

"You know what? I can't do that until you start explaining yourself." Gage ignored the glare from Nate and proceeded further inside the patio of Fizztop Grille where Nate was plopped down on a dirty sofa. Gage sat down on the countertop while facing the former vault dweller. "I've noticed that you've been kind of... distant in recent times. I just want to remind you that you and I, we're in this together."

"That's lovely. You can leave now." Nate rolled over so that he was facing the back of the couch and away from Gage, who simply sighed. His patience was wearing thin, fast.

"Seriously though, in case you forgot, if you screw this up now, it'll be both our asses if you do."

"Thank you for the reminder, Gage. But you heard for yourself how we've already been getting our asses kicked by the Minutemen."

"Yeah, and the gangs have started blaming you for being where we've ended up. And of course, they're also blaming me for helping you in the first place."

"So this is about you, then?"

"I didn't say that now, did I?" Gage raised his hands up in defense.

Nate sighed exasperatedly and quickly sat upright from the sofa to face the other man. "What is there to talk about? We're done. We're screwed, fucked. There's nothing we can do."

"You keep talking like that and the gangs'll make your death all the more painful."

"What else is fucking new? I don't suppose you have any suggestions. We've tried everything and nothing worked."

"I hate to change the subject, boss, but I really don't appreciate your tone." Gage's voice grew stern. "I'm supposed to be your second-in-command, remember? I did offer you a lot of ideas and you ignored every Goddamn one of them. And now we're two dead men walking unless we can somehow turn this shitshow around."

"What's the damn point? I already explained it to your deaf ass, we're out of options here."

"Well, unless you're satisfied with being dead, we can't just wait around for the gangs to come knocking on your door with only one goal in mind." Gage suddenly through his hands up in frustration. "Okay, you know what? Fuck it. We are through. Go ahead and just let the gangs have their merry way with you. I don't care anymore. Have half a mind to put a bullet in your stupid, smug face myself." He got up from his perch on the counter and pointed an accusing finger at Nate. "Can't believe I was actually stupid enough to think you'd actually turn this thing around, make it worth my time. And at one point, you were doing just that. You even had the other leaders convinced that you were the real deal. Still don't know what the hell changed about you." Gage stormed towards the entryway to the restaurant, seething with anger the whole way, his hands balled into fists as he approached the doors. "Well, have fucking fun the rest of your life. At this rate, guarantee it's gonna be a short one. Asshole."

Nate simply rolled his eyes as his former right-hand man disappeared behind the heavy, metal doors. He lied back down on the sofa, satisfied that he was finally alone again.

* * *

Over the next several few months, things went from, in the words of Redeye, the DJ for Raider Radio, "bad to total shit." The Minutemen continued to devastate the gangs, overpowering them and defeating them at every which way, all the while growing only stronger and stronger as more people joined in the unified fight to end the raiders once and for all. And it wasn't just the Nuka-World raiders who were suffering. The Corvega plant was taken over by the Minutemen, and according to rumors, they've managed to restore automobiles from before the war to become operable again. The Forged had been all but exterminated from the Saugus Ironworks, and the Minutemen have transformed the factory and were now producing metals as well as a pre-war technology called "asphalt" to repair and rebuild the roads which will enhance the use of the automobiles for transportation. Many of the Gunners had surrendered after seeing what they were up against, and under strict watch and retraining, some have even become Minutemen as well. Machinery once lost from the war were now back in use, having been repaired or remanufactured. The people have been working on cleaning up debris around the Commonwealth, now that the resources allowed for it. A more ambitious plan is to restore the skyscrapers around Downtown Boston, but that's still a few years out at the very minimum. The Commonwealth was becoming somewhat like stepping into a time capsule, almost like the pre-war days. Raiding and scavenging were increasingly being viewed as "primitive" around Boston. New robots are now being built and programmed with very specific instructions on how to function and operate, now excluding possibilities of independent thinking.

Much like the gangs had feared, the last remaining outpost was claimed by the Minutemen and the raiders now had nothing outside of Nuka-World. It reached a point where the gang leaders had finally accompanied the Overboss on their last ditch effort at maintaining a grip on any surrounding territories. Of course, it was far too late for them. They were simply no match for the Minutemen who had become much too powerful. Both Dixie, and Mags' brother, William didn't survive the gangs' final encounter.

Tensions were higher than a geiger counter in the Glowing Sea. As Nate had anticipated, most of the raiders blamed him for their losses. The Overboss insisted that if the gangs had pitched in more in the first place, they might have had a fighting chance against the Minutemen, but Nisha, Mags, and Mason all refused to accept any of the blame. They were adamant that the Overboss has gone soft, and if one were to ask Nate, perhaps that was true. Ever since that fateful night, the wanderer has never quite felt the same. The gangs had noticed the Overboss acting more gently and polite around the traders, which confused the hell out of everyone at first. One night, Overboss Nate had caught a scavenger looking for food. But rather than having them be "escorted" to the Overboss's quarters for their fate to be decided upon, a Pack member spied on the Overboss giving them caps, food, and stimpaks before sending them off. Word quickly spread around the park, adding fuel to the fire that represented Nate's deteriorating standing with the raider gangs. The wanderer had resorted to disabling power from the lift outside and barricading the doors in the patio every night to ensure that he would live to see the next morning. It had developed into his bedtime routine, but it was also becoming exhausting.

One night, Nate simply could not sleep, so he decided on a nighttime walk, which that in itself is now increasingly risky. He walked past the pond where that one Operator was always sifting through the water in search of hidden treasure, only now he was joined by several of his fellow gang members and they were currently in an all-out brawl with one another over the nonexistent riches. As the military veteran pressed on towards Nuka-Town USA, he received silent glares, folded arms, taunts, or insults from the lingering raiders. The respect and fear they'd once had for their Overboss was now nothing short of a memory. He headed past the gates that lead to the Bradberton Amphitheater where one Pack member simply growled at him while a second one licked his lips with a hungry expression on his features. A lone Disciple was sitting up against the wall by the main entrance to the park, casually sharpening a blade. As he trekked by, the Disciple removed their gaze from their task, their wordless stare following him all without skipping a beat as they simultaneously filed at their preferred weapon until Nate was out of sight. When he saw the monorail station up ahead, he contemplated on making a run for it. But as he got closer to the building, he noticed how none of the lights were on. He reached the elevator and discovered that the button also wasn't lit up. He pressed it anyway, but nothing happened.

"Going somewhere, Overboss?"

Nate jumped slightly and turned to face the source of the sudden voice. His reaction seemed to satisfy the culprit, it was Nisha who came into view, fiddling with a blade in her hand which the moonlight reflected off from. She leaned against the corner of the concrete, a sinister look on her face that sent chills down his spine.

"Uh, no. I was just out for a walk." Nate answered. "Couldn't sleep."

"Good." The bloodthirsty raider very carefully ran her finger just barely over the blade, as if testing its sharpness. "Because the gangs are making plans for a little 'party' and you're the guest of honor. Wouldn't want you miss out on that now, would we?"

"Of course not." The former vault dweller confirmed. "I'll attend this party if it's the last thing I do."

"Oh, believe me, it just might be." The Disciples' leader chuckled evilly. "But don't get too excited just yet, the party won't be for a couple of days still. In the meantime, don't go too far." With that, she departed from her position and strolled back towards the park. An unnatural sense of dread began to fill Nate as he hurried away from the transit building, fearing that anyone could be waiting in the shadows. He half walked, half jogged while paying attention mostly to each successful step, making sure he didn't trip and fall and land himself into an even more vulnerable position.

Nate wasn't sure how long he'd been on the move, but if he was lucky, he'd have made some mileage between him and the raider gangs. He figured that even if he finds himself in the vast wilderness with nothing but glowing ants and cave crickets around, he'd still have a better chance than back over at Nuka-World. He had lost track of time and decided to stop and figure out where the hell he is. When he looked up, he was confused to see that he had only made it about a quarter of a mile from the park, not exactly the distance he thought he had achieved. Now exceptionally tired on top of it all, feeling like he could collapse at any moment, he was about to keep going when he finally realized just where exactly he was. He was in the presence of a makeshift home, formerly owned by a young man named Evan.

The home had clearly not been lived in for some time. There was now overgrowth around the property, some wrapped around the stilts to the house. A water pump was broken in half, rusted apart. A small garden was now a bunch of rotting melons and gourds that were close to completely composting away. Inside, there was a stove, a connected pair of seats, an empty shelf which held nothing but a first aid kit that was also vacant of anything useful. The bed had a dirty mattress that had clearly been torn into by wild animals or some other creatures. Once Nate was finished touring the uninhabited structure, he walked further up towards the roof and soon found himself facing the empty blue and white patio chair where Evan once sat when they had first met. The black and white striped umbrella still surprisingly intact as well despite its condition. Still physically knackered, Nate slowly walked along the roof and sat down on the chair against his better judgement. Even though he felt like he couldn't possibly take another step, he also worried that the raider gangs potentially knew that he was itching to run away like a coward and were now after him. He looked around in the distance and back towards Nuka-World. He could not spot anybody or anything that raised the alarm, nothing but peaceful silence.

In the midst of his search, he couldn't help but take in the view. Either it was because he knew his time was nearing, or the sight truly was something to behold. Perhaps it was no wonder how Evan was so captivated by it, Nate concluded. The mist off in the distance above the hills, the full moon shining brightly over the landscape, he could almost stare at it all night. Maybe since he predicted that he wasn't going to be around much longer to enjoy it, he might as well the seize the opportunity while he can. His mind fell onto the home's former owner. It's been almost a year now since Nate sent Evan off into the Commonwealth never knowing for certain if the boy would make it, but also knowing that he could not safely stay in Nuka-World any longer. He wondered how Evan was doing, and what he might be doing. He could only guess that the young man was out there helping people, it seemed to be his nature after all. Nate also wondered how his other friends were doing, as it has been even longer since he'd seen any of them, save for Preston. What exciting cases has Nick Valentine been on? Did Strong ever find the "milk of human kindness?" How has Danse adapted to life as a settler after he was banished from the Brotherhood? What 'new' things has Curie learned about? And how was MacCready's son doing? All these questions that he'll never get to ask because he chose to be stupid and selfish.

After all this time, he finally realized that he was never truly alone, not even after losing his wife and son. He still had a family. Codsworth, Hancock, Ada, and even Cait. Piper was like the nosy little sister always snooping into his business, but always genuinely caring about him all the same. Old Longfellow was like the drunk but wise uncle who always knew how to have a good time while sharing helpful advice. For the first time in what felt like forever, Nate felt happy. That feeling was short-lived though when his thoughts fell back onto how foolish he was. What was he thinking? Joining a bunch of trashy raiders, only thinking for himself, not once taking into consideration how his friends would all feel. Granted, he was kind of forced, but as Preston had once suggested, Nate still had time to do the right thing, but he ultimately didn't.

The wanderer was overwhelmed by guilt and remorse. After all that he's done, working with the raider gangs, betraying his friends' trust, all the innocent lives he's ruined, and more. He sighed and stared down at the roof of the trailer. How would his wife and son feel if they knew what kind of man Nate had become? He never once thought about that. He now wholeheartedly regretted the choices he's made. If only now he could go back in time to a previous point and make different decisions for the better. But wishing only wounds the heart, and now he has to face the consequences of his actions. He really did wish that he could see his friends, his real "family" one last time, or, at the very least, Evan. The genial young man was almost like the son he never had. Nate could only imagine if Shaun would've turned out any similar had he been raised by his actual father instead of the Institute. While Nate could just as easily blame Evan for his downfall as Overboss, he simply didn't have the heart to. Evan had to be the kindest person the wasteland has ever seen, he didn't have a malicious bone in his body. Dare Nate say, he's willing to believe that he has, to some degree, become a better person thanks to the younger man. And if what Evan said is true, that Nate could still redeem himself if he was truly willing in spite of his past, then maybe he would get to reunite with Nora and Shaun. They could finally be a family again, a concept that this cruel world has torn apart, twice.

Nate shifted around on Evan's old chair, willing himself to stand back up but struggling to gain the motivation. That was when he heard a distinctive crumple from down beneath where he was seated. At first, he just thought that the aging material of the chair was simply reacting to his weight until he felt it as well. He lifted himself up slightly and reached down to pull out a crisp, white envelope. He was baffled to say the least. The paper was bright, clean, and smooth to the touch. How had he not noticed this before? He must have been so out of it that he hadn't realized that it was there. The front of the envelope only read one thing, "To: Nate." Now more awake than earlier, Nate carefully used his finger to tear open the envelope. Inside was a folded note. The pristine piece of paper smelled like it was fresh from the post office, which as far as Nate knew, no longer existed. With newfound curiosity, the lone wanderer opened up the paper and began to read,

_Dear, Nate,_

_It has been a long time since we last spoke. I hope that you read this letter and that you are relatively well. I'm sorry that I didn't write to you sooner, I've been very busy to say the least._

_I made it to Diamond City safely and got settled in. I met your friend, Preston Garvey, and he encouraged me to join the Minutemen which I did after doing some training. After a month, I was actually elected to be the General and I accepted._

_I'm very excited to tell you about what has changed in the Commonwealth. I don't know if you have heard anything yet, but we have really managed to rebuild humanity. The Minutemen have saved many people from the raiders and gunners. Sturges and Tinker Tom, if you remember them, were able to restore some of the automobiles and other machines. We're working on rebuilding the roads too. We have revived a lot of the old factories and are now producing different kinds of materials like they did before the war. All of the new houses and buildings we've constructed are nice and sturdy, and bigger. Ronnie Shaw says that they're almost like the ones built during the pre-war times._

Nate paused to allow the realization to sink in. So it was true, not just his imagination. Mankind really was returning back to its former glory. The days of decrepit, ramshackle homes, crawling over rubble and debris, watching your back every moment, were all coming to an end. Soon, the world will reestablish a society like before the bombs fell where people will cheerfully greet their neighbors over white picket fences, children run and frolic over soft, green grass. The former vault dweller never would have imagined anything like this would ever be possible again, and yet, somehow, here it was. Slowly but surely, humanity was finally recovering after two centuries of daily pain and suffering. All thanks to the Minutemen, and especially thanks to their new head command, General Evan. _That has a nice ring to it._ Nate smiled as he felt a sense of pride wash over him like a decontamination shower. He was beyond proud of the younger man and all he has accomplished in such a short amount of time. Nate no longer cared that he was now looked down upon by the raider gangs, and likely going to meet his demise in the near future. Meeting Evan was no doubt the turning point of everything for him and the Commonwealth as a whole. And though it will ultimately result in his own end, at least life will be better for generations to come, and it will only keep improving as the intangible kindness of the wonderful young man continues to shine a light that this dark world so desperately needs.

_I saw you with the gang at Abernathy Farm. I was so worried that you wouldn't make it out alive, but I'm very glad that you did. I ordered our forces to not pursue you after you ran._ "So that's why the Minutemen stopped chasing me." Nate thought aloud. _I am aware that our efforts have created uncertainty over at Nuka-World, and I am concerned for you. I rallied Deacon to keep an eye on things and report to me. In fact, he's the one who made sure you found this letter._ "Deacon?" Nate said in amazement. "That sly son of a bitch..." The military veteran looked up from the note and scanned around the area, searching for any signs of the sneaky Railroad agent. When he found none, having figured that the spy was long gone, he resumed reading. _I hope it eases you to know that I have talked with Preston, and it took many times, but he has decided to forgive you. He only now hopes that you'll also come to your senses and return home. We all miss you. Dogmeat especially misses you._

_I know that you won't want to take any credit, but all of this is because of you, Nate. Because you helped bring back the Minutemen, helped so many people around the Commonwealth, and last but certainly not least, you saved me. I think about you every day and how you chose to save my life, and I will never forget it. I'm so grateful for the life I have now, and the life that I'm helping build for others. None of what we have achieved would have been possible without you. Thank you, Nate._

The sole survivor leaned back into the chair. This lengthy note was a lot to take in and process. So, in a way, he did save mankind, just indirectly. He supposed that it was just another fact that he had to accept, even though he still didn't feel like he was deserving of it. It's only real shame that he won't live long enough to see it for himself. With power to the monorail cut, Nate had no efficient way of getting out of here. He decided that he would not even bother to question how the hell Deacon managed to make his way over here and then back. He was not very confident that he could make the journey on foot. If the gangs didn't catch up to him, any other assortment of unpleasantries out there most certainly would. It seems that this was yet another thing he needed to come to terms with. He's not getting out of here alive. It's like he had told Evan before, his fate has been sealed. He may have regrets now, but it's simply too late for him. At least he can feel content in knowing that humanity has a fighting chance after all. He didn't have one bit of doubt that Evan and the Minutemen would do more great things. He could even say that his own eventual departure would not be a total waste, having thrown away everything he had worked for as Nuka World's Overboss to help save the world that has mistreated him and so many others.

Nate thought about staying up here on the roof of Evan's former home to spend his last remaining days and just wait for whatever would finally get him. Whether it be the elements, creatures, or the raider gangs coming to bring the 'party' to him. He was about the put the letter back safely into its envelope when his finger brushed against a flap of paper folded behind it. With honestly nothing better to do, he pulled the letter back out and extended it all the way, revealing some more writing that he hadn't initially noticed which read,

_Should you decide to come back, I want you to remember that my home is open to you. I will be more than happy to help you resettle in the new Commonwealth, the one that all of the people have helped rebuild, including you. I even have a spot reserved for you in the Minutemen if you are interested. And If you think you'll need help getting out of Nuka-World, and maybe also to free the traders too, always know that we are just a minute's notice away._

_Sincerely, Evan._

**The End.**


End file.
